


Soulmate - Delayed Reaction

by Verya



Series: Derek/Stiles AU Scenes [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:30:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6960796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verya/pseuds/Verya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a person turns eighteen their soulmates first words to them appear on the inside of their dominant wrist.  Of course it had to be the week when Stiles broke his hand!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soulmate - Delayed Reaction

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired because I broke my hand last week! Complete AU!

* * *

 

“This is literally the worst,” Stiles moaned as Melissa eased the sock like material over Stiles’ arm.

 

“It’s not the worst you’ve dealt with,” she consoled him.

 

“Melissa, I am supposed to get my soul mark in six days, there has to be a loophole,” he continued to plead.  “Something, a rule where I get the cast off for a peek and then right back on again.”

 

“And endanger your hand and wrist healing?”  Melissa asked, rolling padding around his hand, carefully snipping minute strips between his fingers.  “Keep still.”

 

“I have to wait three months to see my soul mark,” Stiles groaned. "Tell your son I get one hell of a pity party.  I'm talking rocky road and Star Wars marathons."

 

"I'm sure you'll have to twist his arm to sit and watch movies with you," Melissa continued with patience as she pulled on some gloves and picked up the fiber glass rolls.  "And I'll give you a lollipop at the end of this."

 

"Cherry?"  Stiles deadpanned.

 

"Your favorite is grape, don't play me," Melissa said, "Is any of the padding to tight?"

 

"Naw - you're a pro," Stiles said, leaning back against the wall with a sigh as Melissa wound the blue and orange material around Stiles' hand.  "This sucks."

 

"Yes it does, but your soulmate will get their mark too and maybe it'll be something unique so they'll come and find you," She continued, molding the cast to Stiles' arm.  "It'll work out.  It'll just take a little time."

 

"My brain knows that, emotions are messier," Stiles replied.  "What if it's like yours and dads?  What if they are with someone and I'm supposed to wait years."

 

"What if's one get you anywhere," Melissa said, pulling off her gloves.  "Just be patient, eat your birthday cake, and no monster chases for three months.  Research only."

 

"You got it boss lady," Stiles said, accepting the grape lollipop from her with a smile.  Scott was waiting outside with a lop sided grin when Stiles walked out.  "I hate you when you heal a broken leg in seconds."

 

"Yeah, yeah, gimpy," Scott replied.  "Come on, let's get ice cream and movies, I heard the party requests."

 

Scott grabbed ice cream on the way and did sit through a movie marathon with Stiles.  Stiles knew he had to keep the cast on, he understood why it was necessary.  That didn't stop his emotional swings when he couldn't cook one handed or tried to write in class with the results of scribbles.  He couldn't even pick up a book with his right hand, there were times he was down right miserable.

 

The worst was when he felt the words of his soulmate being scarred into the inside of his wrist, midnight on his birthday.  His dad had stayed up with him, made him coca after Melissa and Scott had gone to bed.  He let Stiles mope into the beverage for a few minutes, then patted him on the shoulder.  "Stiles, the cast comes off soon and you'll know.  They'll wait for you son."

 

"I'm gonna stay up and mope a little longer," Stiles said with a grim smile.  "You go ahead to bed."  The Sheriff went upstairs and Stiles ran his hand over the inside of his cast.  The words of his soulmate were waiting there, under the stupid layer of protective cloth and fiber glass.  "Dammit."  Stiles tried to choke back the tears, he really did, but they slowly fell from his eyes.  The hot liquid fell on his cast for a few moments before he could jerk his arm away to avoid getting the material wet, but that only made his tears fall faster and breath gasp in his throat.  It really was stupid, his mark wasn't going to fade in a few months.  Not like his father's had after his wife's death, or Melissa's when Rafe had turned to alcohol instead of her to solve his problems.  The logical knowledge was there, Stiles knew that, but he couldn't seem to stop the heart ache that threatened to make him implode.  The person who would love him, accept him, and encourage him was so close but the universe was making him wait.  The pain in his chest worsened, Stiles lurched to the couch and fell down on it, the stairs to his bedroom seemed to far to attempt.  He just hugged the closest pillow to him and cried until he fell into an exhausted sleep.

 

Scott had the compassion not to tease him the next morning.  He just helped Stiles bag his hand and told him to shower before breakfast.  It was a Monday, but the family was getting up early for bacon and eggs to celebrate.  Everyone at school was sympathetic, Lydia asked how he was doing that day. He didn't have it in his heart to lie, he wasn't doing well and his old friend could see it. In reality, most of the day was really a fog, he just moved through life without even noticing who he was talking to.  All he could focus on was the unseen words on the inside of his wrist, telling him who he should be waiting for.  Stiles wondered what he or she was like. Was it a boy, girl? Would he or she be tall, or short?  Would he or she already know about the supernatural, or would he need to tell them about the every day horrors of his life? What was he going to do if they didn't? These were the only things he could think about as class after class ran by him.

 

This continued for months, then weeks, and finally days as Stiles practically bounded into Orthopedics.  "It's the day.  It's the day.  It's the day. It's THE DAY!"

 

"I don't want to be the wet blanket but you need to be checked out, the cast may be going back on," Melissa grimaced.

 

"You can put me in a body cast and traction as long as I can look at my wrist," Stiles whooped.  "It's the day!  I get to see my soul mark."  Stiles wrapped his arms around Melissa and picked her up off the ground.  "My soul mark!"

 

"Walking advert for Aderall in a spray bottle," Scott teased.

 

"Not even you can tease me today," Stiles protested, jumping onto the table as Melissa prepped the saw.  "This puppy is coming off and I get to see my soul mark."

 

"You might have mentioned it," Scott joked. "Once or twice." Melissa gently sawed through the fiber glass and began removing the padding.  She cut gently around the cotton when it stuck to his skin and slowly poured some solution over it so the fabric pulled away smoother.  She did not let Stiles turn his hand over till she examined it, once Stiles had the clue he was bound to run off.  "You still need a brace for the next few weeks when you're not in PT."  She handed him the material and then Stiles was squirming to turn his wrist over and read the words.

 

“Hey you, this is private property…” Stiles read slowly over the soft skin.

 

“Seriously?”  Scott asked.  “That’s what Derek said to us when we first…holy shitake mushrooms.”

 

"Gotta go," Stiles said, jumping off the table and sprinting for the parking lot.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles burst through the door of the small cottage Derek had bought after his return to Beacon Hills several months prior.  "Stiles...what?"  Derek asked, standing from the couch with a book dangling from his fingers.  "Is everything ok?"

 

Stiles panted while he really looked at Derek's wrist, now covered with a thick watch band.  A watch he'd started wearing sometime before his return...which had only been a week or so after Stiles' birthday.  "You knew?"  Stiles asked as his breath evened.  "All this time, and you didn't say anything."

 

"Stiles?"  Derek asked, not noting the simple brace on Stiles arm.

 

"You're soul mark, it matches mine now doesn't it?"  Stiles asked, removing the brace so Derek could see the words there.  Derek paled and he dropped the book, hand instinctively jumping to protect his mark from view.  "After Paige's faded, yours matched mine.  How long till the new one burned in."

 

Derek dropped his head.  "The day after I left," he admitted in a soft voice.  "Right after Mexico."

 

Stiles turned sharply, his hand coming to his mouth.  "That...uh...that long.  The better part of a year?"

 

"I wasn't 100% sure," Derek replied, "Then I came back, expecting to find out but you were hurt.  I did't want..."  His voice trailed off as he fiddled with the watch.

 

"What?  Me?"  Stiles asked.

 

"No!  To get my hopes up again!"  Derek replied.  He tore off his watch and Stiles saw his first words to Derek inscribed there.  "What if yours didn't match?  What if I had to wait?  What if you didn't want me back?"  Stiles heard all of his own fears from months ago echoed back at him, the hulking form of Derek's muscles somehow managing to look small as he stood in the kitchen.  "I mean, why would you even..."  Stiles decided to end that train of thought right there, crossing the distance in three short strides to grab Derek's shoulders and pull him into a kiss.  Derek only took a moment to respond, he had been mid word so the kiss was sloppy and their teeth clacked together.  Derek slid his arms up Stiles' and one hand cupped the back of his head to control the kiss, spinning them so Stiles was pressed against the counter.

 

"We're going to solve all that bullshit later," Stiles gasped.  "Right now, I'm not going home tonight."  Derek groaned into the next kiss and savored in the feeling of warm skin thrumming beneath his palms to pull Stiles even closer.  They ended up snuggling on the couch and exploring each other as much as they dared to diving head first into their relationship.  Stiles had declared Derek alone for far to long and was more than happy to take care of that particular problem.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes - I write my emotions...or what I want my emotions to be...maybe I just want a moody werewolf to be my soulmate...I don't know I'm on painkillers! All updates will take longer because I am typing one handed.


End file.
